


Day Tripper

by terrys_chocklit_orange



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:55:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19305517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrys_chocklit_orange/pseuds/terrys_chocklit_orange
Summary: For the kinkmeme prompt: "Crowley takes up Shadwell's offer to be of assistance, but he wants something more than witch hunting from the young Shadwell."





	Day Tripper

**Author's Note:**

> Dubcon, suggestion of voyeurism.

Shadwell isn't Aziraphale. Obviously.

He's rigid where Aziraphale is pliable. He's stupid where Aziraphale is boundlessly intelligent, brilliant, although he doesn't always act like it. Shadwell is prickly where it seems like Aziraphale would be deliciously soft, welcoming, and so, so easy for Crowley to love in every way the humans love each other, every way created by God. Not that he's getting the chance anytime soon. 

“Too fast,” Aziraphale said. He's too fast. If Aziraphale just doesn't want him, that's one thing. Crowley wouldn't blame him at all. But “too fast”... “Too fast” would have been kissing Aziraphale in the rain as they stood on the walls of Eden, and the thought did cross his mind. “Too fast” would have been slipping a hand onto Aziraphale's arse as they watched the animals trundle, two by two, into Noah's ark. He can even concede it might have been too fast, and perhaps in questionable taste, if, at Calvary, he'd leaned over and said, “Look, this bloke is going to be hanging around a while, fancy a quickie round the back of that empty cross-post?” Nowhere, however, in Heaven or Hell or on Earth, can five thousand, nine hundred and sixty years be thought of as “too fast.” 

“Are you sure...” Shadwell says, removing his wet mouth from Crowley's cock, “this will help me find witches?” 

“Yeah, yeah. 'Course it will.” It's not a temptation. Not in the way Crowley usually does them. But it's an outlet, for now. A shabby outlet in the back of a shabby pub in Shoreditch. The others left when Crowley told them the heist was off, and paid them for their time. Shadwell stayed, as if he has nowhere else to go.

Shadwell seems about to say more, but Crowley pushes his head back down. He sucks Crowley inexpertly, with the technique of someone who's had it done once or twice himself, probably by a disinterested prostitute. His hands are by his sides; the only place he touches Crowley is with his mouth. That's fine. Crowley doesn't want to touch Shadwell any more than necessary, either. 

Crowley can, technically, hold off orgasm for as long as he likes. He's pictured it, making love to Aziraphale for hours, days, weeks on end. There's no reason they shouldn't. No reason, except for the fact Crowley is, ironically, “too fast.” He has no desire to stay with Shadwell nearly that long. A few more sucks and a weird motion of Shadwell's tongue and Crowley lets himself come. Shadwell sputters and gasps, spitting into an empty pint glass beside him. 

It doesn't make Crowley feel any better. Rather the opposite. As he watches Shadwell wipe his mouth on a paper napkin, he imagines what Aziraphale would say if he could see this, the disappointed shake of the head, the sigh of, “Oh, Crowley, _really_.” It doesn't make Crowley ashamed of what he's done—demons are never ashamed—but it does make him feel just a little bit guilty. 

“There's a commune near Stow-on-the-Wold,” he tells Shadwell. “Full of witches, that one. Just chock-a-block.” It's not. But they do have a “clothing optional” policy, and their members are the most attractive nude people Crowley has seen since the Garden. “Best stay back, though. Bring your binoculars.” 

Shadwell nods. “Aye aye, sir. Will do.” He scrambles off. Crowley tucks himself into his tight jeans and saunters off to find some demonly havoc to wreak.


End file.
